Cineri Gloria Sera Est
by Clarus Magnus
Summary: When Graverobber finds a distraught Shilo, the last thing he wants is a kid to take care of, but is Shilo really the kid he thinks she is? Rated M for Luigi's bad language.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Repo! The Genetic Opera. Assume this statement extends to the whole fan fiction.

Author's Note: Hey, it's me again. My new obsession is Repo! The Genetic Opera. In particular, I like the Grilo pairing. Here's my attempt at a Repo! fanfiction. Tell me what you think!

Graverobber sat atop his usual dumpster near the entrance to an alleyway. He had found a nearly-perfect apple with only a couple bites taken from it. He wiped the apple on his dingy shirt and happily began to eat his special find.

The sound of staggering footsteps drew his attention from his meal. Looking up, he saw the thin form of the girl he'd seen on the flying televisions in the sky. As she tripped into the alley, he noticed an abundance of coagulated blood covering her once-pale arms with crimson.

He hopped down from his perch and approached the distraught young woman. "Kid? Hey, are you alright?" he asked, fearing he would have to explain a dead kid in his alley.

Without any warning, she latched onto him, wrapping her arms around his fur-covered shoulders. She sobbed into his shoulder, her tears wetting his coat all the way through.

"Kid, really, are you hurt or anything?" he pulled her forcefully from him, trying his best not to hurt her.

Her eyes were red and swollen from crying and she whispered between hiccups, "I'm not hurt, I don't think."

"Whose blood is this, then, kid?" he asked, scraping some of the congealed blood from her arms.

"It's from my…my dad," she said, breaking back into uncontrollable sobs. She again pressed herself into his chest, making him uncomfortable all over again.

"Kid, you've got to let go of me. I get that you lost your dad and all, but I'm not the best guy to cling to for this kind of thing," he said, trying to pry her away from him.

"Please, I can't be alone right now," she whined against his shirt. "Mag is gone and so is my dad. Please, just don't leave me," she pleaded, gripping him more tightly.

He sighed and looked around, afraid some Z addict might see him in such a reputation-killing position. "I suppose I could take you home or something."

"No…please don't make me go back there!"

He rolled his eyes and thought about what he could do. "I guess I might have a place to put you. I can't guarantee I'll be there, but you'll be taken care of."

"Thank you," she whispered as he picked her up off of the cold ground. He sighed and carried her small body through the winding alleyways of the city.

He kicked away Z addicts that accosted them as he carried her. He didn't have any Zydrate with him anyway, and he'd have to fix that later.

After a while, her crying ceased and he set her on her own two feet. "Can you keep up, kid?"

She nodded and replied, "I think so. Sorry for getting your coat all wet."

He shrugged and gave her a quick smirk before pulling her along through the secret passageways of the city's underground catacombs. She studied the walls of the tunnels, making faces at the sticky appearance of them.

Graverobber shoved her up a ladder leading to the streets above. When he climbed up behind her, he again took her hand and led her across the deserted street. They walked up cement steps to a house comparable to Shilo's old one.

He knocked on the door in a specific rhythm, telling the owner that he was a friend. The old oak of the door was a foreign look for such a mechanized city. Shilo tentatively reached out and ran her hand down the wood's grain, but pulled her hand back as the door opened.

"Clare, I'm glad you're awake," said Graverobber quietly. "I have a charge for you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from Repo! The Genetic Opera. Assume this statement extends to the whole fan fiction.**

**Author's Note: Enjoy installment two! Nothing epic happening in this chapter, but we learn a little more about Shilo's future. As always, I would love it if you reviewed!**

* * *

"Shit, Graves, it's midnight! You're lucky I'm still awake. Get in here," she said, moving aside so they could enter.

"Thank you, Clare. This kid needs a place to stay," he said, indicating the girl at his side.

Shilo gave him an angry look and extended her hand to the woman before her, "I'm Shilo."

The woman took her hand in a sturdy handshake, giving Shilo a strange look. "How are you still alive, Shilo? I thought that bitch Sweet would have you dead before you could leave the opera."

Shilo shrugged, "I escaped while they were still in shock over Rotti's death, I guess."

Clare led them both through her house, bringing them to a den with a roaring fire in the fireplace. She gestured for them to sit and they sat at opposite ends of a couch. Clare lifted a questioning brow at their positions, but dismissed whatever she was going to say.

"So, you need a place to stay?" she asked, sitting in a comfy-looking recliner, draping her legs over the arms of the chair.

"Um, he said that you would let me stay here," Shilo replied, pointing to Graverobber.

"That's not a problem, kid," said Clare. "You aren't a Zydrate addict, right?"

"No…" said Shilo curiously.

"Good," she said with a smile, "I don't want a Z addict to take care of in withdrawal."

Graverobber cleared his throat, "Didn't your dad have you on some sort of medication cocktail, kid? I saw Rotti say that on the TV zeppelins."

"Well, yeah. He was intentionally poisoning me for the last seventeen years. Is that a problem?" Shilo asked.

Clare put her face in her hands and pinched the bridge of her nose as if she had a headache. "You're going to feel like shit, kid. You're going to go into withdrawal in no time. Do you have your stuff with you? I could see what I could do to wean you off the stuff."

Shilo nodded and rummaged through her satchel, producing several bottles of pills. Clare took them and studied each one. "How are you awake, Shilo? He's got you on more tranquilizers than an elephant could handle."

"Really? I don't really feel different when I take them," she said at Clare's disbelief.

"We'll have to wean you off of these, kid," Clare said, putting the bottles down onto the coffee table in between them. She looked over to Graverobber, whose eyes were closed. "Dammit! Wake up, Graverobber."

He jumped when Shilo reached over and tapped him on the forearm. "Sorry, it's been a long night."

"Yeah, I can tell. Have you been drinking again?" Clare asked, rising from her chair.

"No, I just was almost caught by GeneCops three times tonight. It was tiring. Of course, then I had to carry a distraught young woman halfway here," he said with a teasing smile on his face.

"Come on, Shilo, I'll get you put up in a guest room. Crash on the couch if you plan on staying, Graves," she added over her shoulder as she led Shilo up the stairs.

They passed several closed doors until they came to the last one on the second floor. "You'll be staying here, kid," she said, opening the aged oak door. "There's some nightgowns in the closet, a shower in the adjoining bathroom, and I'll find some of my clothes for you to use for now. We'll get you new clothes tomorrow, okay?"

Shilo nodded and appraised the room. It was pretty basic. A sleigh bed sat in one corner with an old trunk at the foot of the bed. A modest closet was open, revealing some silk nightgowns and dresses. A window peered over the bustling city and the movements of shady Zydrate dealers.

"Shilo, I know I can't do much being that you only just met me, but if you need to talk, I'm here for you, alright? I know what it's like in your situation."

"Thanks, Clare. I appreciate that. Goodnight."

Clare gave her a small smile and shut the door behind her, leaving Shilo alone in the small room. Shilo dropped her satchel, empty of its pill bottles, and kicked off her bloody boots. She opened the door to the bathroom and found a luxurious bathtub worthy of a king.

She stripped the bloody clothing from her body, piling it in a corner of the tiled floor. None of that could be salvaged, she was sure. Even with Clare's best intentions, no amount of bleach could take the pink stain of blood from the white of her shirt.

She looked at herself in the mirror, having removed her blood-covered wig. Her arms were covered in oxidized blood. She could see where her father's bloody hands had been, his fingerprints clear enough for all to see. A silent tear fell down her cheek, picking up blood smeared on her face and turning it pink.

She couldn't look at herself anymore, so she turned on the water, making sure her shower would be scalding to clean the remnants of the massacre from her body.

She stood under the spray for a long time, waiting for the water to lose its pink color. When it became clear, she found a small bottle of almond-honey scented body wash and tried to scrub away the last of the coagulated blood.

After nearly an hour in the shower, she decided that she was as clean as she could get. She climbed out and wrapped herself in a black towel she found on the rack. Padding out of the bathroom, she dressed herself in one of Clare's nightgowns.

She pulled back the blankets and curled up under them. She let silent tears fall down her face as she fell into a fitful sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from Repo! The Genetic Opera. Assume this statement extends to the whole fan fiction.**

**Author's Note: Enjoy this next installment! Nothing epic happening in this chapter, either. It does feature a shirtless Graverobber though ;) As always, I would love it if you reviewed!**

* * *

The light of the early morning filtered through Shilo's thin curtains. She hadn't slept well at all in the aftermath of what she had seen at the opera.

She lay there for maybe an hour before she heard a light knock on her bedroom door. "Come in," she said.

Clare poked her head through the door, seemingly unsure of whether Shilo was actually awake. "Morning, kid. Did you sleep at all?" she asked as she entered the room.

"I didn't really sleep that much; maybe a couple hours," she said with a yawn.

Clare tentatively sat on the edge of the bed and looked Shilo over. "How are you feeling physically? I would imagine that was taxing for you."

Shilo rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and sat up against the mound of pillows. "I don't feel sore or anything. Should I?" She asked worriedly.

Clare shook her head. "No, I was just curious whether you sustained injuries that you couldn't feel with the adrenaline in your veins. Anyway, I looked over your pills. I've got a bit of a plan to wean you off of them so I can minimize your withdrawal symptoms, okay?"

Shilo nodded and rubbed her temples, trying to get rid of the sudden headache that plagued her. "Are we going shopping today?"

"Yes. I've got some clothes that should fit you for the time being. We'll go to a thrift shop or something and find you a wardrobe," Clare said as she placed a shirt and pants on the end of the bed. "You'll have to wear your shoes from last night, I'm afraid."

Shilo nodded solemnly. "Do you have a hat or something I could wear until I can wash my wig?"

"Actually, I came in here last night to check up on you, and I found it on the floor. I've got it in the kitchen soaking in some soapy water right now. I'll dry it off for you before we leave."

"Thanks."

Clare stood back up and gave Shilo a comforting look before leaving. Shilo got up and dressed herself in the fairly modest clothing that Clare gave her. She wiped the blood from her shoes and put them on, trying not to think about the source of the crimson color.

She navigated the hallways and made her way to the dining room where Clare had a plate of toast and a cup of coffee waiting for her. Shilo sat down and nibbled on the toast, watching Clare comb the snarls from her own wig.

"There," she said, handing Shilo the wig, "I think I got the worst of the tangles out of it."

"You really didn't have to do that, you know," said Shilo, situating the wig on her head.

Clare shrugged and poured herself a cup of coffee before sitting across the table from her.

"How can you afford such a big house?" Shilo asked without warning.

Clare laughed and replied, "It's a long story, kid. You probably wouldn't enjoy hearing about my past. I can tell you about Graverobber and his exploits, but not much about myself."

"What about Graverobber?" Shilo asked as she took a sip of her coffee.

"I trained him."

"Trained him to do what, exactly?"

"Why, I taught him to extract and sell Zydrate, of course! That's all he does anyway, isn't it? I taught him the mechanics and how to evade the damn GeneCops. I can't say he got his sense of style from me, though. That was inborn," she said with a smile.

"Wait, then why did you ask if I was a Z addict?" she asked.

"That's the first commandment for Z dealers: thou shalt not use thy own product. Seriously, it's addicting from the first hit. None of my dealers are allowed to be addicts themselves. I can't do business like that; I've got class, you see," Clare replied.

Shilo was surprised that this woman was some sort of drug lord. "How did you get into the game?"

"And so we return to your original question. I helped develop Zydrate. The drug is licensed under me. It's patented by me. GeneCo pays me royally for its supremacy on the legal Zydrate market. I get monthly payments from the company, and they keep the exclusive right to sell it legally. I used to be a mortician, and I noticed that the recently dead had this blue liquid. I experimented with a couple rats and noticed its painkilling ability."

"You created Zydrate? That can't be possible," said Shilo incredulously.

"You're looking at one of the bitches that invented the most addicting substance currently known to man. It's a little anticlimactic, isn't it?" she asked with a smile.

"Um, yeah. Why did you train Graverobber to get Zydrate illegally then?"

"It's simple, kid. I wanted more money, so I taught a couple people to harvest Zydrate for me. They sold it and I skimmed some of the credits off the top. I was making almost a hundred universal credits for each dealer per night. I had it made; I still do."

"Wow, I didn't peg you as the dealer type," said Shilo in disbelief.

"That's part of my power, kid. No one expects the woman who lives in the big house to have a connection with the illegal Z trade. To be honest, I wouldn't give a shit if they did. As long as people stay out of my way, I'm happy."

"Speaking of Graverobber, where is he?" Shilo asked, looking around.

"He's taking a shower in a guest room. He should be out shortly," Clare said, taking a sip of her coffee.

As if on cue, a shirtless Graverobber walked in nonchalantly. His usual greasepaint was washed off to reveal slightly tanned skin and dark eyebrows. Shilo couldn't help but stare at his bare chest. He was dusted with hair, but not a dog. Flat planes and ridges of muscle danced under his skin as he moved. Tattoos depicting a grim reaper and something written in Latin adorned his back. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he turned around and jumped. Shilo was there, and she looked like breakfast just wouldn't quell her hunger.

With a delicious smirk, he sat down and added sugar to his cup. "Good morning, ladies."

"Dammit, Graves! You took the last of the coffee!" fumed Clare as she got up to make another pot.

"How are you, kid?" Graverobber asked Shilo.

Shilo tore her gaze from his chest and looked at him in the eye. "I…uh…I've been better," she stuttered, a blush creeping across her face.

"I'm sure. Do you want anything from your house, kid? I could pick the locks or something and get what you need. I'll be selling on that side of town today."

"I don't think there's much I could need from that place, but I'm pretty sure there are a couple GeneCop bodies in his Repo Man cave." She couldn't bring herself to admit it used to be her dad's Repo Man cave; it was too soon.

He gave her a nod of his head, "Thanks, kid, it makes my job that much easier to do."

"Sure. You know, maybe some of my Blind Mag posters could come here and maybe a couple books. It doesn't matter which one."

Clare turned from the brewing coffee pot and butted into the conversation. "Shilo, I've got a library that rivals even the Largo's library, that is, if they can read. Seriously, don't worry about books to read, I've probably got the one you want. Oh, here take these," she said, handing her a few of the pills from her collection, "I'm going to wean you off of these. This is a smaller dose than usual, so you might feel a little off, maybe a little better."

"Thanks, Clare," said Shilo as she took her pills with a drink of her coffee.

"Come on, Shilo. We've yet to get your clothes. There's a thrift shop down the street."

Shilo nodded and gave a hasty goodbye to Graverobber, who hadn't moved from his seat at the table. "I'll probably be gone by the time you're back here, kid. I'll have your stuff tomorrow," he said with an intoxicating grin.

Clare left the house with Shilo in tow. "You could barely keep your eyes off him, girl. Get it together!" Clare joked as they walked down the street. "Besides, he's a little old for you. He's twenty-five and you're, what, seventeen?"

"Yeah, I'm seventeen. How couldn't I look at him? How could you not look at him?"

"Well, married people generally don't check out other people like that, kid," she said with a smile.

"You're married? I didn't think any of those rings on your fingers meant anything."

"It's a shame that marriage doesn't carry the same weight it used to. Hell, some dealers accept certain favors for Z. Of course, I think my husband is the only dealer that doesn't accept _that_ kind of payment."

"Oh, I had no idea," Shilo said, blushing.

"Here we are," said Clare with a grin. She opened the door for Shilo and followed her into the thrift shop. "Pick out what you want; I've got 200 credits for you to use. That should be more than enough. I've got business to attend to just around the corner. I should be back before you're done. Go wild, kid."

She left the store and walked away, leaving Shilo to find new clothes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from Repo! The Genetic Opera. Assume this statement extends to the whole fan fiction.**

**Author's Note: Enjoy this next installment! We find out a bit more about Clare and her husband. Can Shilo trust her new friend? Let's see.**

* * *

Clare looked over her shoulder to make sure Shilo didn't follow her. The girl didn't need to know that she was going to GeneCo tower; she wouldn't trust her anymore.

She walked purposefully through the revolving door, stomping up to the front desk. "I'm here to talk to Amber Sweet."

"Do you have an appointment?" asked the GENtern at the desk.

"I don't need one. Call the bitch and tell her Clare is here. She'll know who it is," she said with a mischievous smile.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Ms. Vincere. I will inform Miss Sweet that you are on your way up," said the GENtern as she dialed her phone.

Clare smiled and strode over to the open elevator. The doors closed without prompting and took her to the top of GeneCo tower.

Without so much as a knock, she shoved the door open and accosted GeneCo's new CEO, Amber Sweet. Pavi and Luigi sat on a pair of leather chairs. Luigi was polishing one of his father's knives from his inherited collection, while Pavi admired himself in a mirror.

"Hello, Amber," Clare sneered. "I've got a request for you, and I'm pretty sure you aren't going to like it."

Amber growled. "What do you want?"

With a smirk, she replied, "Royalties just aren't enough. Take my cut and mark it up!"

Pavi's light laugh filled the gray room. Luigi smacked him on the back of the head with the pommel of the knife. "Pavi, shut the fuck up!"

"No-a you shut up!" Pavi shot back. Luigi bared his teeth and brandished his knife.

Clare grinned at the brothers' exchange. "I need more cash, dear, and I would like it now."

"I'll give you ten percent, not a credit more. The rate doesn't change for five years," Amber said coolly.

"Fifteen percent, and it doesn't move for three." Clare was known for her hard bargaining when it came to the selling of Zydrate.

"Deal. I'll send you a check tomorrow. Are we done?" she said, glaring daggers at her brothers who were getting into some sort of tussle with Luigi's hands around Pavi's throat.

"We're done. Thank you, Amber. It's a pleasure doing business with you."

Clare left Amber to deal with her childish siblings. As the door shut behind her, she heard Amber cussing out Pavi and Luigi for something, whatever it was. Such hopeless causes they were.

She made her way back to the thrift shop. She walked in and found Shilo with a small collection of blouses and skirts, as well as a new pair of boots. She had a black leather coat draped over her shoulders, which reached down to her knees. It reminded Clare of the coat she used to wear as a dealer.

She shook off the thought and walked up behind Shilo. "Buy it; it would look good on you."

"You really think so?" Shilo asked, appraising herself in the mirror.

"You've got plenty of money, Shilo. It looks good on you. Just buy it. If you don't, I will buy it and give it to you anyway."

Shilo smiled and nodded, "I'll buy it, then."

Clare picked up her pile of clothes and paid for Shilo's new things. She filled three shopping bags by the time she was done. They walked back to Clare's house and she opened the door, dropping her share of Shilo's bags. "I'm going to make our late lunch; it's almost three o'clock as it is. Is a sandwich okay? You're not a vegetarian, right?"

Shilo shook her head no and walked into the den, finding a dark-haired man crashed on the couch. He was lightly snoring with an arm thrown across his face to shield from the inevitable sun that would come through the window. His shirt was half open underneath his black leather jacket. A satchel sat near the couch, a faint blue glow showing from the open bag.

She slowly backed out of the room and into the kitchen. "Um, Clare, who is the guy on the couch?"

Clare walked into the den and sighed. "That would be my husband, Ivan." She walked over and pulled his arm from his face, finding his dark eyes staring back.

"Were you talking about me, by chance?" He sat up and stole a kiss from Clare's lips, then turned to face Shilo. In a slight Russian accent he asked, "Who might you be?"

"I-I'm Shilo Wallace," she said quietly.

"Ah, so you are the Repo Man's daughter? I'm sorry to hear about your father, Shilo. It's not easy losing one's parents. From the looks of the bags sitting behind you, my wife has taken good care of you, though."

"Yeah, we just went shopping for clothes."

He nodded with a smile. "I see that. Oh, Graverobber spoke to me on his way out. He won't be back until tomorrow morning, but he'll have your stuff for you."

Ivan rose from the couch and stretched. Pulling off his black leather coat, he jarred the bag near his feet, allowing a vial of Zydrate to roll across the floor. He swore under his breath and bent to collect the glowing blue vial to put back into his bag.

"You've got a good haul today," Clare commented, taking his coat and laying it over the back of the couch.

"Yeah, the GeneCops left me alone this time," he said with a smile. He looked over to Shilo and held a container of the sapphire fluid in front of her face. "Have you seen how this stuff is collected?"

"Yeah, Graverobber has shown me before."

"Has he?"

"I saved him once, and I had to be able to see, so I took one of his needles and got some Zydrate from a body nearby," she cringed at the thought that the body was her mother's.

"Well, perhaps I could take you out and put you to use, then," he said with a mischievous smile aimed at his wife.

She gave him a disapproving look, "She's definitely not going with you to collect Z. The girl's been traumatized enough as it is."

"I was only kidding. Why don't we go get something to eat that's not cold? I could take you both to the diner down the street with the cash I got today. Let me change and we can be on our way," he said as he made his way to the stairs, untying his half-tied tie as he went.

"Let's put all of this stuff in your room. I'll let you put it in your closet later."

Clare led the both of them up the stairs to Shilo's bedroom, dropping the shopping bags next to Shilo's bed. "Take your time and change. Ivan will take a while; he takes forever to pick out his clothes. He's got a reputation to uphold."

"Sure, thanks. I'll be down in a second," said Shilo as she began rummaging through her new clothes. She picked out a basic white blouse and black skirt, electing to wear her new flats.

When she came down the stairs she saw Clare impatiently tying Ivan's black silk tie. Shilo smiled—she actually smiled—for the first time since the opera.

"Hey, when will Graverobber be back? Maybe we could take him along, too," Shilo said as she came into the room.

"He won't be back for a while, kid. Do you really want to wait that long? Like I said, he's going to be back in the morning. It's only three, Shilo. Come on, let's go. If you like him that much I could give you cash for a date later," he added with a wink and a smile.

Shilo blushed as he ushered her and Clare out the door. "It's not like that, Ivan," she said, her face still burning crimson.

He let out a kindhearted laugh and they continued to walk in silence until they came to the sketchy-looking diner with a Z addict slumped in the adjoining alley. Ivan opened the door for the ladies, following them to a small table in the back of the diner.

A waitress came up and asked what they wanted to drink.

"I'll have a beer," said Ivan, looking through the menu. He looked up and saw Clare's arched brow. "I'm celebrating, sweetheart. We got a good haul last night."

"Fair enough; I'll have water, thanks," said Clare to the waitress.

"I'll have water, too," Shilo said quietly, looking back to her menu.

The waitress nodded and walked to the kitchen. Clare watched Shilo look over the menu. "Order what you want, Shilo. The sirloin is always good."

Shilo nodded, her brow still furrowed in concentration. She looked up to Clare and said, "I really haven't gone to that many restaurants. My dad used to take me to this place near my old house for my birthday. I didn't really get out that much, so this is a treat for me."

"Speaking of which, when is your birthday?" Clare asked as the waitress came back with their drinks.

Shilo took a sip of her water, deep in thought. "It's a week from today. I'll be 18."

"We'll have to celebrate, then," said Ivan, taking a drink from his beer.

When the waitress returned, they ordered and continued to talk.

Shilo learned that Clare and Ivan had been married for close to five years. Clare had originally been his teacher, showing him how to extract and sell street Zydrate. Over the years, they had grown close and finally were married. Ivan sold Z to high-class socialites who were looking for a more intense high than legal Zydrate could give them. He went to parties they held, in which he would peddle his wares to the rich partygoers.

When their food came, Shilo instantly dug into her meal. She'd never tasted anything like it. The chicken she chose was seasoned, unlike anything her dad fed her. He had insisted that she needed to eat things plain, lest the food aggravate her fabricated blood condition. "This is really good!" she said between bites.

"I know. Ivan and I come here a lot," said Clare. "The food is always good."

Shilo nodded and continued eating. "Will Graverobber come back to sleep at your house?"

Clare shrugged. "Hell, I don't know. I assume he went to go sleep in a dumpster somewhere when he left. For all I know, he might enjoy sleeping on trash. He was never the smartest kid."

Shilo laughed, giving herself hiccups by the time she was done. "Alright then. Since we're talking about Graves, what's with the whole greasepaint thing? Is he trying to emulate one of those weird singers from the 1980s?"

"Hey, those guys were cool! Anyway, it's more of a device to protect his identity. The persona of Graverobber keeps him from having to give out his real name. The makeup comes with the persona."

"Oh," Shilo said, nodding. "What's his real name?"

"That's something that he needs to tell you himself. There's power in a name, Shilo. When I was a dealer, no one knew my real name."

"What was your dealer name?"

With a grin, Clare pulled up her left sleeve. Lettering that spelled the name "Regina" was tattooed in an elegant script, featuring a blue vial underneath.

"Regina? Why would you pick that name?" Shilo said as she took a closer look.

"In Latin, it means "queen." Regina was my street name way back when. I don't sell anymore, but the tattoo reminds me of my past."

"Don't tattoos hurt?" Shilo asked, still examining the intricate features of the script embedded in her skin. The lines were heavy and black, but they still seemed to flow like they were meant to be part of her skin.

Ivan laughed across the table. Clare shot him a disapproving look and he returned to his meal. Clare turned her gaze back to Shilo. "Compared to other experiences, it was relatively painless."

Shilo nodded and slouched back in her seat. "I don't think I can eat any more food right now."

"I would say the same for myself," said Ivan, waving over the waitress. "Check, please."

The waitress brought over their bill and Ivan placed a stack of credits in her hand. "Keep the change for your tip. Thank you."

Clare rose from the table, the other two following close behind her. When they got out onto the street, Shilo spoke up again. "If she was Regina, who are you, Ivan?"

His face lit up with a boyish grin. "I'm Rex, which means king. Most don't know the old language, so they don't question the meaning. If they did, they would understand the irony in the names."

Shilo nodded, unable to keep her own smile from her face. They were so normal, yet they somehow weren't. They were that gray area between the stark contrasts of the two main classes in the city's de facto caste system: the socialites and the Z addicted scalpel sluts.

From what Shilo could tell, neither of them seemed to have any obvious cosmetic surgery. Of course, they were involved in the illegal Zydrate trade, but that was irrelevant. They were as close to normal as she could expect anymore. They legitimately cared for her, even if they had a questionable profession. Her father was, after all, a Repo Man.

She supposed that her attraction to Zydrate peddlers might be a bad habit, especially when Graverobber almost got her killed when he was robbing graves. Whenever she seemed to go visit what she had believed was her mother's grave, she would see him creeping through the cemetery, gathering Zydrate.

Somehow she felt her heart skip beats when she saw his painted face and multicolored hair. Her father had her convinced that anything that made her heart beat out of character was a part of her blood disease. Now that she learned about how sheltered he did keep her, she realized that maybe it meant something else.

In a couple smuggled-in books, she read about how people found true love. She never thought she might feel like they did for someone else. Her dad never had anyone but her; he wouldn't even date or look at a motherly figure for her. She was convinced that love only existed in books, since she never saw it anywhere before.

Could she feel love for someone like Clare did? She wasn't sure yet. Maybe without the numbing effects of her father's drugs, she could find out if she could.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from Repo! The Genetic Opera. Assume this statement extends to the whole fan fiction.**

**Author's Note: Yes, this chapter is much shorter, but I'll post the next one, too. Please R & R! :D**

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They arrived at Clare's house, and Shilo settled on the couch. Clare and Ivan retired to bed around ten o'clock, but Shilo stayed and watched an old Blind Mag concert until midnight.

She drifted off, still lounged on the couch. Just as she began to settle into a deeper sleep, a light grip on her shoulder jerked her awake. Her eyes shot open and found the dark eyes of Graverobber staring back. "Hey," she said quietly as she sat up.

"Hey, you," he said with a quick smile, "Is Clare asleep?"

"She is. Are you alright?" she said, her brow furrowing in concern. He was holding his shoulder, a little stain of crimson on his shirt.

"I've got a cut I need taken care of," he said, making his way down the hall.

"I could take care of that, Graverobber. Let me," she said, brushing past him and walking into the kitchen. She opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a half-filled bottle of hydrogen peroxide, along with medical tape and gauze. She took a washcloth from a drawer and wetted it with the peroxide. "Take off your jacket and your shirt. I can't take care of it if I can't see it."

With a boyish grin, he shed his coat and button-down shirt, revealing the chest she couldn't take her eyes off of the morning before. He sat down on a chair and she looked at his cut. The wound was a good-sized slice out of his muscled shoulder. It bled freely, but the blood was beginning to congeal.

She lightly pressed the washcloth to his wound, earning a pained hiss. "Hey, you've got tattoos, and you're complaining about a little peroxide?"

"Tattoos are different. That's a needle; peroxide burns."

"Whatever. You're such a baby," she said as she continued to clean out his wound.

Out of the blue, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her over so she was straddling his legs. "There, now you don't have to reach so far."

She blushed, but didn't stop cleaning out the gash in his shoulder. When she was satisfied that it was clean, she made a move to get up. His arm around her waist tightened, keeping her close to him. He reached over and gave her the gauze and the medical tape.

With great care, she covered the cut with the gauze and held it on with the tape. She looked up at him, studying his painted face and black lipstick. Without thinking, she brushed her lips over his. She instantly turned red with embarrassment, struggling against his arms' iron grip around her waist.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking," she said quietly.

"Well, I think _I_ know what you were thinking," he said with a light laugh, "I don't know if you know what's good for you in that regard, though. I'm not the most trustworthy of men, and I might be a little old for you."

He finally released his hold on her, allowing her to stand back up. She took the washcloth and rinsed it out in the sink. He stood up and walked up behind her. He gently turned her around and placed a sweet kiss on her lips. "Now you know what I was thinking, too, even if it was a little wrong."

He flashed her an intoxicating smile and collected his coat and shirt before he left the kitchen for the comfort of the couch.

Shilo braced herself against the counter trying to slow down her rapid heartbeat. Could this be what it was like to love someone? She couldn't know. Perhaps Clare's collection of books could tell her. She touched her fingers lightly to her lips, remembering how unbelievably good his lips felt on hers.

Her breathing having returned to normal, she walked to her room, avoiding the room where Graverobber was probably crashed on the couch.

She quickly showered and lay down in her bed. For a while, she didn't even think about the carnage she had so recently seen. The only thing on her mind that night was the feel of Graverobber's lips, and the thought she might be in love.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from Repo! The Genetic Opera. Assume this statement extends to the whole fan fiction.**

**Author's Note: I don't have anything to say, but I beg you to review! Please R & R! :D**

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~1 Week Later~

Shilo woke up late, amazed at how well she slept the night before. She found a small assortment of pills that Clare had obviously left for her to take, along with a small glass of water. She took her pills and got dressed in some of the new clothes Clare had bought for her.

She walked down to the kitchen, finding Graverobber asleep on the couch. Clare and Ivan sat at the table, eating a simple breakfast of jam-covered toast.

"Good morning, Shilo. There's more toast on the counter," said Clare with a smile. Shilo walked over and grabbed a slice, spreading a sweet peach jam onto it.

She sat down across from Clare, unable to hide the grin that insisted on showing itself. Ivan gave her a questioning look. "What has you so happy this morning, my dear?" he asked.

"I don't know. Life just seems to be looking up already."

"Really? Enlighten me," he said.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I just feel like I might have a better life ahead of me."

"That's good. Ivan and I have some business to attend to this afternoon. It's almost eleven o'clock as it is. Stay here for now. The library is the door to the left of your room, if you've forgotten already. I bought some of the books you requested," said Clare as she rose from the table and placed her coffee cup in the sink. She grabbed a long, black leather jacket from the back of her chair and put it on. Ivan followed suit and they both left the house.

Shilo finished her breakfast and walked into the living room, where Graverobber was still asleep on the couch. He was sprawled across the sofa, his deliciously sculpted chest bare. She smiled and continued on to the library, electing to wake him later and change his bandage.

She entered the library and began to peruse the shelves of books, trying to find something that piqued her interest. She found a copy of an old romance novel and sat down in a comfortable chair in the library.

She made a good dent in the book after three hours. She went out to the living room finding Graverobber still asleep. She walked over and knelt down in front of the couch. She reached over and smoothed his multicolored hair back, waking him gently.

His eyes slowly opened, but closed when he made a move to roll over. Shilo gave him a stern look and grabbed hold of his uninjured shoulder. "What?" he questioned groggily.

"I need to change your bandage. Come into the kitchen." She dragged him up from the couch and shoved him into the kitchen, trying to ignore her love for the feel of the soft skin of his back. "Stay put so I can change that gauze."

He obediently sat down at the table. He raked his fingers through his unruly hair and rubbed his palm over his face, gauging whether he needed a shave or not. He jumped a little when he felt her cool fingers begin to pull the medical tape away from his skin.

She giggled at his reaction, but continued to pull the adhesive strips off of his shoulder. When the last of the tape had been ripped away, his wound was revealed to the open air. He hissed as the cool air touched the raw skin of his injury. It was healing, but it was slow going.

"Sorry, but I can't let this get infected," she said with an apologetic smile. She soaked a washcloth in hydrogen peroxide and began to dab at his wound. He kept his whining in check this time. He didn't need her picking on him for being a baby about the whole thing.

"I'm going to put some antibiotics on it this time, okay?" she said, reaching for a container of thick antibiotic ointment. He flinched as she began to smother his wound with the cold ointment.

"Thanks for this," he said quietly while she began covering his wound with gauze.

"I don't really mind. After last night, I wonder if…" she drifted off at the end of her sentence.

"You wonder what? You wonder if I might like you. If you like me? Good question. I couldn't answer it either. How old are you, anyway?" he asked.

"I'm seventeen, but my birthday is this week."

"Huh, I suppose I should find you something, then," he said thoughtfully.

"No! You really don't have to. I'm just glad I'm in a safe place right now."

"You're saying that you don't want me here, then? I could leave and you could enjoy your safe place."

"Don't do that, please. I like having you here. You're kind of the only person that hasn't lied to me."

"I'm not the best guy to put your trust in, kid. You would place trust in a Z dealer?"

She giggled and sat at the table next to him. "At this point, you, Ivan, and Clare are the only ones I have."

"I'm glad you don't want to banish me to the streets. I would miss you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from Repo! The Genetic Opera. Assume this statement extends to the whole fan fiction.**

**Author's Note: I don't have anything to say, but I beg you to review! Please R & R! :D**

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Clare and Ivan walked in tandem to GeneCo Towers, intent on insuring Shilo's future. Unbeknownst to the girl, there was a price on her head. When Clare checked on her one night, she found Shilo talking in her sleep. She seemed to be arguing with some sort of unseen entity.

Without even consulting the GENtern, she strode over to the elevator with Ivan in tow. She punched the button to Amber's office and gripped her husband's hand tightly.

When the doors opened, she found Amber passed out, her head resting on a stack of papers that needed to be signed. Clare sneered and sat down in one of the chairs across from Amber's seat.

She waited for a whole five seconds before kicking one of the legs of Amber's desk. The CEO of GeneCo jumped and straightened her jacket. Her alarmed face changed to her normal look of nonchalance. "What do you want? I'm already paying you more."

"I have a request of you, Amber."

Amber sat back in her chair and rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

"I want that bounty on Shilo Wallace's head to disappear."

Amber sat forward again and rested her elbows on the desk. "Do you know where the bitch is?"

"Perhaps," said Clare, studying her nails, "I can promise you that wherever she is, she's no threat to your position. I can guarantee that."

"Can you? I know better than to trust a Z peddler."

"You dare call me just a Z peddler? I'm the creator of the illegal Z market. I'm the queen."

"Fair enough, but why would I take the bounty off her pretty little head?" Amber asked casually. "She might be better off dead."

"I can give you my word that she won't be a problem. I've investigated a bit, and I found that only if she killed her father, would she become the CEO of GeneCo. She never did, so she's no threat," Clare said with equal nonchalance.

"You can guarantee this?" Amber asked.

"I can indeed. Do we have an agreement? I keep Shilo out of your way, and she's no longer on your hit list."

Amber offered her right hand and Clare took it. "We have an agreement. Now get out. I've got things to attend to."

Clare rose from her seat and smiled, pulling a vial of Zydrate from her pocket. "Can't I interest you in a hit?"

Amber raised her middle finger in a silent reply, but Clare's smile wasn't dampened. She turned and left with Ivan close behind.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from Repo! The Genetic Opera. Assume this statement extends to the whole fan fiction.**

**Author's Note: Enjoy. Please R & R! :D**

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"You would miss me?" Shilo asked incredulously.

"What can I say? I've grown a bit attached. Hell, you've taken care of this cut for me. I think Clare is fond of you, too. She's always wanted a girl to take care of. Most of us Z dealers are guys, so she is stuck with the lot of us." He shrugged his shoulders and sat back in his chair.

"So what are you getting me for my birthday?"

He grinned. "I'm not telling you! What day is your birthday?"

"Two days from now. I thought Clare would have told you," Shilo said.

"Why would she tell me that?"

"I don't know. I figured you might have asked or something."

He gave her a devilish grin. "Did you expect me to ask, my dear?"

"No, I just…" she drifted off, unable to hide her embarrassment.

"Well, now I _really_ know what's on your mind, Shilo," he said, his voice dropping an octave lower than usual.

Her face burned with a blush. "You know my name."

He flashed his intoxicating smile again, "Of course I do. How couldn't I? You were all over the newspapers the Z addicts sleep on."

"Oh, I suppose that was kind of all over the city, wasn't it?" she said quietly. "Hey, do you think I could come grave robbing with you?"

His eyes opened wide and he said, "No, it's too dangerous. I couldn't put you in danger like that."

"Why? I escaped with you that one night. I could learn how to harvest and sell Zydrate. You could harvest in half the time!" she insisted.

"Look, I… I sort of care about you, okay? I appreciate the offer, but I didn't get you off the streets for you to return to them. It's too late for me, but you don't have to be a street rat. You don't have to be like me, kid."

"I want to help! Come on, just for tonight. If I screw up, you can make me stay home while you're out."

He rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his mussed hair. "Fine, I'll take you tonight. Of course, you have to promise that you'll listen to me and not fall asleep while we're out. Fair?" he said with a sigh.

She giggled and jumped from her seat. Without thinking she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, placing a kiss on his makeup-less cheek. She strode out of the room with a bounce in her step.

He watched her leave then turned to face the table. _She's jailbait!_ His mind screamed. _I've got two days, then she's fair game._

He put his head in his hands and let out a heavy sigh. Graverobber was getting too involved with the girl, and it was going to come back and bite him on the ass one of these days. He had nothing to lose by being with her.

"Ah, what the hell, I've got nothing to lose," he declared. The last thing he needed was a clingy girl, who was obviously too young for him, to be following him like a lost puppy. Clare had told him that she'd been studying Zydrate in her library. Shilo knew the mechanics of the whole deal, but could she really put her book-learning to use? He would have to see about that tonight.

When Clare and Ivan came home, they brought a few bags of groceries. As Clare set out to put things away, Shilo came back into the kitchen. "What's with the wine and the vodka?" Shilo asked, picking up the bottle of red.

"The vodka is for Ivan; he's still Russian at heart. The wine is for myself and Graverobber. There's Kvass there for you, so you don't feel left out," said Clare as she took the bottle of wine from her hands.

"Kvass? What's that?" Shilo said, picking up the brown bottle with Russian lettering.

Clare laughed. "It's like the Russian equivalent of Coke. It's got something like one percent alcohol. Hell, maybe you'll get a little buzz."

Shilo put down the bottle and saw Graverobber eyeing the bottle of vodka that Clare had yet to put away. "Hey," he said, reaching for the bottle, "could I-"

"No! I'm making a nice dinner tonight, which you will be staying for, then we drink to celebrate the good news."

"What good news?" Shilo asked.

"You'll have to wait until tonight, dear. Until then, you can help me make some of the food. You haven't had much cooking experience, I know, but you're going to help me."

Shilo nodded with a grin on her face. She put some boxes where they belonged in the cupboards, then walked to Clare's side to begin cooking with her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from Repo! The Genetic Opera. Assume this statement extends to the whole fan fiction.**

**Author's Note: Hello, readers! I'm sorry for taking so long. My energies have been put towards other things lately, and I apologize for how short this chapter is. Enjoy. Please R & R! :D**

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An hour later Shilo, Ivan, Clare, and Graverobber sat at the table eating the feast of steak and potatoes that Shilo had learned to make not an hour before. They talked and laughed like they were a family and it was normal for them to do that.

After they had eaten Clare broke out the alcohol and distributed the bottles to their respective drinkers. "I have an announcement," she declared. "I have negotiated with Amber Sweet, and there is no longer a bounty on Shilo's head."

Shilo dropped her glass, making it shatter into pieces. "What? Why did no one tell me?"

Clare looked dumbstruck. "You didn't know? I thought you watched television all the time."

"Yeah, but I watch reruns, not the stupid news! I don't want to hear about Amber Sweet and her damn brothers!" Shilo stood quickly, making her chair topple over. Her eyes were wide with fear and anger. If they didn't tell her about this, what else did they forget?

"None of us do, kid," said Graverobber, trying to defend Clare, "but she kind of figured you knew."

"Well, I didn't. Surprise! I'll talk to you about this later, Graverobber," she growled, "So she was having someone try to kill me then?"

"It would appear that way, Shilo," said Ivan in a calm voice. "We spoke with Miss Sweet this afternoon, and we negotiated your safety."

"What did she say?" Shilo asked, her voice coming down from her previous angered snarls. Her hands were still clenched into fists, but her knuckles were no longer white from her grip.

"We did some digging and found out that Rotti had never signed the will which would have given the company to you. So you had no legal right to the company. We convinced her that you wouldn't be a threat to her ownership of GeneCo," explained Ivan in his accented English.

Shilo picked up her chair and sat down, struck speechless. "You're free, Shilo," Clare said quietly. Shilo nodded and got up from her seat to grab a new glass. She filled her new glass with the Kvass that Clare had bought for her and downed it in one gulp.

"I'm free. Graverobber, you're definitely taking me grave robbing tonight."

"What?" Clare asked, nearly spitting out her wine. "There's no way in hell you're taking her robbing!"

"I kind of promised her that I would take her. She promised that she would stick close and she would listen to me. I won't let her get hurt, Clare." He reached over and placed a protective arm around Shilo's shoulders.

With a heaving sigh, Clare finished off her wine. "Fine, I'll let you take her, but if you so much as bring her back with a paper cut, so help me…"

"Okay! I get it. Let's go Shilo, before she changes her mind." He grabbed her hand and led them both out of the house, his coat and bag in his hands.

He led her through the labyrinth of streets and alleys, moving heavy dumpsters and debris that blocked their way through.

They made it to the sparsely-guarded graveyard. Since Amber had taken over, the GeneCops guarding cemeteries were markedly reduced in number. No one really knew why, but Graverobber didn't mind a bit. Hell, he would thank her himself if he didn't think she would kill him on the spot.

He chose a freshly-filled mausoleum and picked the lock with tools from his leather satchel. He shoved the iron door open and gestured for Shilo to precede him. She obliged and he was afforded a nice view of her back end as she crawled into the body-filled chamber. He shook off his thought and followed her in, pulling the door shut behind them.

A crack in the ceiling of the cement building gave them just enough light to function.

He walked silently behind her and whispered in her ear, his hot breath tickling her neck, "Are you ready to make some money?"

She shivered at the heat of his breath, the feel of his body behind her creating feelings she didn't quite understand. She took a steadying breath and replied, "I'm ready as I'll ever be."

"Great," he said with a smile. He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a vial and his needle assembly. He set up the vial and the needle, handing it to her. "You remember how to do this, right?"

"Um, I think so. I just have to smack it, right?" she asked, pulling the linen covering from a corpse's face. She placed the needle in the body's nose and waited for confirmation.

"Yep; just push it as far as you can, then smack it with the heel of your hand. When you see blue, you know you've got it."

She nodded and pushed the needle as far as it could go. When she hit the skull, she hit the back of the needle solidly enough to break through. She heard the telltale crack of breaking bone as the needle entered the skull. The sapphire glow began to emanate from the vial as she pulled back on the plunger.

"That's great, kid," he said, his voice rough. Why was this girl extracting Zydrate making him feel like he needed to kiss her? The hell was wrong with him?

She finished extracting the last of the Zydrate and handed him the needle, still full. He took it and took apart the assembly, putting it back into his bag.

"What are you doing?" she asked, "Aren't we going to collect more?"

He didn't answer. Before she could ask again, he reached out and caressed her cheek with his calloused hands, bringing a chill down her spine. She began to speak, but he placed a gentle finger on her lips, effectively silencing her.

Gently, he placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her—hard. This wasn't like the chaste ones they had shared before. This one was fierce and wild. He was claiming her mouth as his and his alone. He ran his tongue across her bottom lip, seeking entrance. She let out a delicious moan and opened her mouth, allowing him to do whatever he wanted.

They parted, gasping for breath. Graverobber was first to speak. "In two days, you're mine."

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**A/N I'm considering fast-forwarding to some M-rated scenes in the next chapter. Yes? No? Tell me, please :D**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from Repo! The Genetic Opera. Assume this statement extends to the whole fan fiction.**

**Author's Note: Hello, readers! I'm sorry for taking so long. I know you guys wanted some Grilo, so here it is. I'm not all that good with writing smut, but I hope this will tide you over until I can post again. Finals are coming, and I might not be able to write all that much. My OUAT fanfic has some chapters I need to post, too, so you might enjoy that as well. **

**As usual R & R!**

* * *

Shilo sat in a steaming bath, her back pressed against the side of the tub. Ever since Graverobber had told her that he was going to claim her as his on her birthday, she couldn't get him out of her head. No measure of book reading or bug catching could get him out of her brain.

He insisted on planning a little party for her—minus Clare and Ivan. He had told them that they could celebrate with her later, but she was his for the entirety of her birthday night.

She blushed at the thought. She ran a hand over the short hair that had begun to grow on her previously bald head. Clare's plan for weaning her off her medicines seemed to be working. Her hair was growing for the first time in her life, and she didn't feel the crushing haze of her drugs.

She got out of the tub and wrapped herself in a plush white towel. Leaving the bathroom, she walked into her room and picked out a little black dress which Clare had shelled out the cash for. It clung enticingly to her curves, and she just knew that Graverobber would love it.

She quickly ran a brush through her short hair, excited at the fact she could brush it without taking it off, like she had to with her wig.

She walked down into the kitchen, but found no one. Surprised, she went into the den and found Graverobber stoking a fire in the fireplace. He had cleaned himself up. His multi-toned hair was combed through, a leather thong holding it in place behind his head.

He had on black slacks and a metallic blue button-down shirt. He was the epitome of classy businessman, except for one minor detail: he was barefoot.

She giggled and his head snapped in her direction. He grinned and stood up, brushing the ash from his pants. "I was lighting a fire. The real thing is a little more romantic, don't you think?" he asked, walking over and pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I agree," Shilo replied, threading her hands in his hair and pulling him down to a proper kiss. She held him fast by his hair as she tasted that which was only Graverobber.

"Fuck dinner; I want you now," he growled, wrapping his arms around her waist. He took over, releasing her lips and trailing kisses down her jaw.

He worshipped Shilo like a pilgrim at a holy temple, his love for her never waning.

Shilo dozed, but was awakened by Graverobber's contented sigh. They were still lying on the wood floor of the house, but neither seemed to care. She rested her head on his chest and sighed. "I guess dinner could wait," she said with a smile.

"Damn straight, baby," he said with his own devilish grin spreading across his features.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from Repo! The Genetic Opera. Assume this statement extends to the whole fan fiction.**

**Author's Note: Hello, readers! I'm sorry to say this story has come to an end. I feel like a total bitch for saying this, but I've lost interest in this story. My attention span is notoriously short, and I really didn't account for that fact. I do appreciate all of your kind words, and I hope I'm not that much of a disappointment. Perhaps in a little while I will add more, but I think this fanfic has run its course. The original intention was just to write some Grilo anyway. Again, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the ride.**

**As usual R & R!**

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2 Months Later (Epilogue)

Shilo pulled the cake out of the oven, the smell making her mouth water. Graverobber, or Corbett Peterson, as he had told her, had said that today was his birthday, and she'd be damned if she didn't give him a present like he had given her for her birthday. Well, this time she planned to eat first.

She grinned at the memory of how they had ended up eating a cold dinner on her birthday, though she really didn't mind. It was totally worth it.

Tonight, she had made a whole chicken—something that Clare had coughed up the cash for, it was rare to have the real thing on the island—with all the fixings. Without help, she managed to make stuffing, potatoes, and a host of other things for the four of them.

Clare and Ivan were gone for the time being. Clare had gotten back into dealing Zydrate, and Amber Sweet had wisely looked the other way. The amount of credits Clare was bringing in was astronomical. Clare had even offered to rent a house for Shilo and Corbett. Apparently she couldn't deal with their sickening adoration for each other.

Shilo set down the cake to cool before she frosted it. Before she could turn around, she felt her lover's strong arms encircle her waist. He pressed his lips gently to the side of her neck and down her shoulders. "Is that for me?" he asked, his breath tickling her ear.

"Mhmm, it's _all_ for you," she said with a knowing grin.

"Damn right it is," he said with a low groan of agreement as she pressed her back into his chest.

"But I have to finish dinner and Clare and Ivan will be back any minute," she said with a smile as she turned to face him. He looked really disappointed at her statement.

He let out a disappointed groan and sat at the kitchen table.

"Here," she said, handing him the now cool cake, "frost this for me. Make it look nice."

"Okay," he said, opening the can of frosting and dumping it over the cake. With surprising skill, he frosted the cake and added a 'Happy Birthday' inscription on top with blue icing, complete with the image of a vial of Zydrate.

"That looks nice," Shilo said as Clare and Ivan came in through the front door. Clare walked in and threw her long leather coat on the chair, and sitting down in it.

"This looks fantastic, Shilo. It looks like you've learned from my lessons," Clare commented as Ivan sat down in the chair adjacent.

"Dig in, guys," said Shilo as she brought the last of the food to the table and sat down herself.

Life continued on as usual. Corbett eventually would marry Shilo, despite his being known to be quite the Casanova before meeting her. She took up Clare on her offer to rent an apartment for her and Corbett. It would turn out that Amber would die from a mysterious overdose which was blamed on a vial of tainted street Zydrate sold by the dealer called Regina. The twenty-first century cure became her downfall, and Clare just helped it along a little bit.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello, my lovely Repo! readers. I apparently need to censor some of my work. I apologize, but I really don't want to be kicked off the site. Again, I did so enjoy writing this for all you guys, and I hope you understand my doing this the way I am. **

**If you want to have access to the uncensored version, feel free to private message me about it. I'll see what I can do :D**

**~Clarus Magnus**


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